


Lookin' So Good

by aykayem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aykayem/pseuds/aykayem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You look so good when your hair is a mess; I'm ripping the buttons right off of your dress (robes).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lookin' So Good

It wasn't the strangest thing that Neville had ever done. While it was certainly up there, there was no way this was the strangest. He couldn't think straight enough to be able to come up with the things that ranked higher on the list, but it couldn't possibly be. Not as long as copious quantities of alcohol were coursing through his system, screaming at him to just get in there and have it off like he wanted to.

It was a party, he knew that much. He remembered dressing up - fancy, really proper dress robes, the kind with the lace trim and slightly obnoxious colours. The ones that once made him look like a dumpy, frilly sort of sausage, and now actually worked - and having a glass of champagne. Maybe two. At this point, he had basically stopped keeping track, and determined that to be one of the better decisions of the night. If he didn't know, then he couldn't worry about it.

Other things he couldn't much worry about were just how good Blaise's body felt against his, pressing him firmly against the wall. He truly was trapped between a rock and a hard place, providing a 'hard place' could be defined as a rather rock hard Slytherin. Blaise's mouth dropped, mouthing kisses down his throat, fingers already playing over the buttons of his robes, pushing them obscenely away from his body with absolutely no pretence. Neville groaned, then it turned into a whimper as Blaise's hands crept lower down his body, memorising him through his clothing.

He didn't really know how it started. One drink turned into two, into three, into Blaise suddenly joining him. He was surprisingly good company when he wanted to be. All the same, conversation seemed to blend together, and then they'd found some back hall that no one seemed to go down. Which was good, in a sense. In the sense that they were offered a little bit of privacy when Blaise had uttered some open invitation - accompanied by a strangely lascivious, knowing sort of smile that Neville ought to have thought of before getting up and going along with him - to get to know each other a little bit better.

Not that he was complaining.

He still had no idea why he was there, just that it was a good idea. Blaise was _attractive_ , after all; there was no denying that. He had that devil-may-care sort of attitude about him, and his attentions were so rarely turned away from himself that Neville couldn't help but feel a little bit special - or perhaps that was the haze of alcohol making him feel warm everywhere - as he let Blaise have his wicked way. One thing was obvious: he had no intention of cutting this short. His own hands were wandering, more curious and explorative than Blaise's were - the other man obviously knew what he was doing, his goal known and aimed for with no time for meandering. Long dark fingers had already popped off another vintage button from the dress robes, sending it clattering across the floor as Blaise sucked a mark against Neville's throat, and Neville groaned as his eyes practically rolled up into his head. His knees were weak, his body reacting in all the right ways; he was melting like butter against the other man, and it seemed to be just what Blaise wanted.

If Neville had been thinking straight, he probably would have realised that Blaise loved to be adored, to be worshipped, and that that was precisely what Neville was dong. If he had been thinking straight, though, he might have rethought this and managed an excuse away.

Sometimes, there was something to be said for not thinking straight.


End file.
